


Six Rooms

by ClaudiaRain



Series: Where We Call Home [2]
Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: Family, Friendship, Humor, Love, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 05:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13804299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaudiaRain/pseuds/ClaudiaRain
Summary: Neil and Shaun discuss their relationship, coming to a few conclusions along the way.Sequel to Eleven Rooms.





	Six Rooms

**Author's Note:**

> After the lovely response I got to my first story for this pairing, and a couple requests for a sequel, I had this idea. However, it's not necessary to read Eleven Rooms to understand this story. The only basics are that Neil and Shaun have been together for a while and everyone knows about it.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my first story, it has meant so much! It's seriously because of all of you that I found myself wanting to continue along with this universe. And very special thanks to my good friends Tavyn and crazygirlne for giving me such kind reassurance and feedback - you guys know how much I love you. ❤️

Neil’s lying in bed, eyes shut, letting the quiet drone of the TV wash over him. He hadn’t been that tired when he’d wandered into his bedroom, but that had rapidly changed. Something about being even remotely near the vicinity of his bed after a long day on his feet never failed to induce the tiredness that he was able to keep at bay as long as he was up and working, focused on his patients (and his residents, and the administration, and every other issue that demanded his attention over the course of a day).

As such, it took about ten minutes for his eyes to drift shut, and he’s now debating whether he wants to bother getting ready for bed, even though it’s fairly early. He’d much rather continue to lie here, since the mere thought of getting up sounds too taxing, at the moment.

“Are you awake?” Shaun asks, quietly. A smile plays across Neil’s face at the way he’s purposely lowered his voice in case he _is_ sleeping. That kind of consideration is something that Shaun’s learned over time, and thus, Neil never fails to appreciate it.

He doesn’t open his eyes when he hums contentedly, “No.”

Shaun’s silent for too long, and Neil can perfectly imagine in his mind the way Shaun’s face looks whenever he tries to make sense of something that doesn’t fit. Finally, Shaun says, “You’re talking. You must be awake.”

“Maybe I’m talking in my sleep.” He looks over to find Shaun is primly sitting a couple feet away, cross-legged on his own side of the bed.

“You’re…lying.”

“I’m joking,” Neil corrects. Shaun is long-used to it by now, but it still throws him often.

“Ah. I see.” Shaun nods. “Funny.”

“I don’t quite believe you.”

Shaun doesn’t respond to that. He’s pressing both hands to his knees and takes a breath, like he needs the nerve for something. “I would like to talk to you.”

“We _are_ talking.”

“About something serious.”

That gets Neil to drop the humor. “Okay.” He mutes the TV and motions for Shaun to go on.

“I wish to change the nature of our relationship.”

Neil actually thinks he feels his heart seize momentarily, and he immediately sits up, giving Shaun his undivided attention. The younger man seems…apprehensive. It’s not obvious, but after over ten months together, Neil can tell. He’s learned these things through trial and error ( _lots and lots_ of error). He knows where to look, _how_ to look at Shaun in a way that perhaps no one else can, not even Aaron Glassman.

He can tell that Shaun has no idea how the topic he wants to discuss will be received. He’s nervous about it. Maybe even…scared. _He can’t…what if he’s…_ “Do you want to…” Neil clears his throat and glances away for a few seconds before forcing himself to look squarely back at Shaun. “Do you want this to stop?”

“Do I want what to stop?”

“This.” Neil swallows heavily as he motions between them. “Us.”

“No!” Shaun says, too loudly, before reining himself in. “No, I don’t want us to stop.”

“Okay,” Neil sighs with relief. “Good.” He wonders if Shaun is aware of exactly _how_ relieved he is. He’s known for some time that what he has with Shaun is…well, he thinks this is it for him. He can’t imagine ever being with anyone else. Shaun Murphy, this beautiful, frustrating, brilliant, obstinate, _wonderful_ man has somehow become his sanity over the course of the past year. It should scare him, in fact. And yet…it never does.

He and Shaun have talked about their relationship many times, of course. As it became stronger, went from tentative ‘let’s see how this goes’ to ‘I can’t do this without you’, Shaun has become more at ease with…everything. He’s more willing to talk about things, more open to the casual gestures of affection Neil favors, more comfortable with every aspect that comes of sharing his life with someone else’s. In fact, Neil’s wanted to ask him to move in for about a month now, he simply hasn’t been sure how to approach the topic in a way that Shaun will accept. The younger man is still hyper-aware of his own independence and never wants to feel like he _needs_ someone else to take care of him.

Even though Neil does want to take care of him, more than anything. And Shaun excels at taking care of him, too. (He thinks they could have an exceptional life taking care of each other.)

He realizes, then, that Shaun hasn’t started talking again. He wonders if it’s possible that _Shaun_ might be the one to bring up the next step of moving in together. But knowing Shaun, it’s probably something completely out of left field – even though he knows Shaun pretty well, the other man continually surprises him.

“I think we should make our relationship official,” Shaun finally says, but he isn't looking at Neil; instead, he’s running a hand over the comforter he’s sitting on, tracing the line of a seam with one finger.

Neil thinks that over before concluding he isn’t entirely sure what Shaun means. “Our relationship is official, isn’t it? We’re committed to each other. Everyone knows we’re together.”

“Legally official,” Shaun clarifies.

Neil pauses, mind swirling around those two words. “Shaun, are you…proposing that we get married?”

“That would make it legally official, yes.”

“Shaun…” Something is nagging at Neil, but he can’t place it. He would actually love to marry Shaun, but it’s not a topic they’ve ever touched upon, never mind discussed in regards to their future. Now Shaun is outright suggesting they do it? It’s not entirely _unlike_ Shaun to get an idea in his head and get stuck upon making it happen, no matter the cost, but Neil wants to make sure he’s not missing something. (It’s too easy, with Shaun, to miss things.)

“You don’t want to,” Shaun says, apparently having taken Neil’s hesitation as refusal. “That’s fine.” He turns to get off the bed, but Neil reaches out to grab his hand and Shaun stills. He doesn’t turn around to look at him, though.

“Stay. I want to talk.”

Shaun registers that, what Neil means by it, and then turns to face him again, sliding closer than he had been before. “We should always talk if one of us wishes to do so. It’s the only way this will work.” Shaun repeats the words by rote, because it’s something they had both agreed upon, early on. They’d both known it wouldn’t be an easy road to be in a relationship with each other, and open communication was only one of the ways in which they combated the unusual circumstances they sometimes ( _often_ ) had to deal with.

“Right. So I wasn’t saying ‘no’, Shaun, just…I’m confused. What brought this on? You’ve never even told me your feelings on the topic of marriage, so it surprises me that you’d outright say we should go and do it.”

“You wanted to get married before. To Jessica.”

“Don’t remind me,” Neil mutters. He and Jessica are friends again, but their romantic relationship had turned rocky at the end, so it wasn’t his favorite time to think about.

“I didn’t realize you had forgotten your engagement.”

Shaun’s taken him too literally. “No, I remembered. I just…that wasn’t the best relationship I’ve had. I don’t like to dwell on it.”

Shaun’s clearly distracted by that statement. “What is the best relationship you’ve had?”

Neil tilts his head, assessing him, and realizes Shaun’s genuinely curious. “You, Shaun.”

Shaun seems to accept that in stride. “Okay. If so, then you must agree it’s logical to get married. When two people want to be together, it’s a way for them to tell each other, and everyone else, that they are going to stay with each other.”

His words have struck another warning in Neil, and he doesn’t know if it’s fair, but he wonders Shaun’s _real_ motivations for bringing this up. “Like I said,” Neil repeats, “before we get into it, I only want to know what made you decide this is something we should do?”

Instead of answering that, Shaun asks, “Why are you with me?”

Neil’s taken aback. “Why am I _with_ you?”

Shaun nods. He’s looking down at the comforter again. “Why are you with me when you could be with anyone?”

The clarification causes Neil to tense – the words are decidedly un-Shaun-like. “Did someone say that to you?”

Shaun shakes his head. “Not exactly.”

“Then what, _exactly_ , Shaun?” Normally, Neil isn’t one to pry into things Shaun seems reluctant to talk about, but this sounds like an exception – it’s _always_ an exception when it comes to their relationship. (Namely, he’s concerned that someone might have fed Shaun ideas about him being _undeserving_ of Neil, and if so, they’ll be having to answer to him – and potentially Glassman, after that, depending on if Neil feels in the mood to share.)

“Carly said you could be with anyone, and since you chose me, I must be pretty special.”

Neil relaxes as relief floods through him. That sounds much more like something Carly would say – she’s a sweet girl, a friend to them both, and clearly her statement had been meant as a teasing compliment (to both of them). Unbeknownst to her, Shaun had picked apart her joke and it must be touching upon some insecurities of which Neil hadn’t been aware, before now.

“First of all, she didn’t mean it literally. It’s something to say when you think highly of someone. And she was trying to give you a compliment, in turn, by saying you were extraordinary.”

“She didn’t say extraordinary. She said special.”

“I know Carly. I know that she thinks you’re extraordinary. She’s told you as much, Shaun. Many times. Your abilities awe her – they awe everyone.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

It takes Neil a few moments to remember exactly what Shaun’s referring to. “Why am I with you?” He reaches out to brush a finger over the back of Shaun’s hand, and when the younger man sighs a little, he keeps doing it because he knows he’s enjoying it. “There are so many reasons.”

“You may list them.”

Neil laughs slightly. “Okay. Well, you know I want you.” He lowers his voice. “I _always_ want you.”

“You find me aesthetically pleasing,” Shaun says. “I, too, feel the same about you.”

“I suppose that’s one way to put it,” Neil agrees, unable to keep from grinning at Shaun: the way he rephrases things in his own parameters has always fascinated him – he loves that. He loves _Shaun_.

“That is only one reason.”

“And the most superficial one, I admit. But it’s true, so I thought I’d throw it out there first, get it out of the way. Honestly, Shaun, I could be here listing reasons all night: you’re kind, passionate, driven. You care so intensely for others that you’ll break the rules to ensure people are okay. And you challenge me – you challenge everyone, and by doing so, you make us all better.”

“Many wouldn’t agree with that statement,” Shaun points out.

“No, they wouldn’t,” Neil allows. “But they’d be wrong.”

Shaun’s clearly enjoying this, as evidenced when he says, “You may continue listing my positive attributes.”

Neil laughs again. “That’s another one. You make me laugh, Shaun. You see the world in such a unique way, and there’s genuine humor in that, even if you don’t always recognize it. You’re supportive of everyone, not just me, but your friends. You don’t let anyone stop you or tell you that you can’t do something. And you’re brilliant. I love the way your mind works. You have a true gift – a gift which you have chosen to use in order to save people’s lives. There’s no more noble calling, in my opinion, than what you’ve dedicated your life to.”

“It’s what you dedicate your life to, as well.”

“Yes,” Neil says solemnly. “We share that. We share a life, a pursuit, a _purpose._ We’re uniquely suited to each other. Trust me, I’m the first one who would have said I’d never believe it possible, back when we first met, for us to be where we are, right now.”

“In your bedroom at 7:35 pm on a Thursday evening?”

Neil blinks. “Actually, yes. Literally where we are, too. But in figurative terms – our relationship, and the way we feel about each other.” He takes a breath and then lets it go. They’ve never explicitly talked about why they love each other – to this amount of depth – and he’s already planning to turn this around on Shaun, once he’s done. “You are, quite simply, my favorite person in the world.”

Shaun leans back a few inches, in a move that anyone else might see as shifting to get more comfortable; to Neil, the move broadcasts Shaun’s surprise, in the loudest of ways. “Your favorite person. In the world.”

“Yes.” Neil holds his hand out and Shaun accepts the invitation, taking his hand and moving closer. They’re not touching except for their hands, but less than a foot separates them now.

“That’s…” Shaun has pursed his lips. “Patently illogical.”

“Explain.”

“There are over seven billion people on this planet.” Shaun’s staring past him, and Neil can imagine the numbers that must be going through his head. “In your life, you have met perhaps a few thousand. Of those, you’ve had the opportunity to get to know a few hundred well enough that you could make the determination of whether or not they are your favorite.” He nods, assured of his results. “As such, you cannot definitively say that –”

Neil lets go of Shaun’s hand, but only so he can reach up and rest his hand on Shaun’s face, letting his thumb slide over his lips and silence the words. “You. Are my favorite.”

Shaun’s eyes have fallen shut and when he opens them again, he still seems troubled. “There is no way –”

“You’re not going to win this argument with me, Shaun.”

“I’m not arguing,” Shaun argues, which forces Neil to hide a smile. “I’m pointing out the absurdity of your statement.”

“And _I’m_ pointing out the absurdity of yours,” Neil counters, pulling his hand away, but Shaun takes it in both of his and lets their hands come to a rest in his lap. “It’s completely impractical to suggest someone has to know all seven billion people on Earth to make any kind of general statement about one of them. You are my favorite of everyone I know. And I have no inclination, nor desire, to go looking for anyone else.” Just the mere idea, in fact, leaves Neil feeling sick. (He actually tries to picture it before casting the thought aside as too painful…as impossible.) Shaun seems to be thinking his words over, and Neil can’t help teasing, “Besides, where would I find the time?” He looks at Shaun sideways. “Especially when you monopolize so much of it?”

“That’s a fair point. Your time _is_ limited.” There’s a new light in Shaun’s eyes when he adds, “After all, you are significantly older than me.”

“I don’t know about significantly,” Neil protests, and this time he actually _is_ unable to hide his smile at Shaun’s obvious joke – the younger man loves to needle him about things. It’s something that had come about slowly, and now he thinks Shaun enjoys it as much as Neil himself does.

“There is a fifteen –”

“I know the difference in our ages, but I hardly have one foot in the grave.” Before Shaun can argue that point to a literal extreme, he turns the topic around on him. “So you tell me, if it _were_ possible to get to know everyone on the planet, would _you_ want to go out looking to see if you might care for any of them more than me?”

“No,” Shaun says reflexively, with a vehemence that appears to startle even him. Then he frowns, obviously confused over his own reaction.

“Why?” Neil presses.

“I don’t want to,” Shaun says slowly, and Neil can see the understanding as it dawns in him.

“There’s your answer, Shaun. That’s how I feel.”

“Of everyone I know, you are my favorite as well.” Shaun has lowered his voice significantly. “The only person close is Dr. Glassman, though I care for him in a much different way than you.”

“I would hope so,” Neil quips. Shaun huffs a little, which is his equivalent of rolling his eyes. “So why am I your favorite, huh?”

Shaun’s eyes widen, clearly not expecting this reversal of questioning. “I don’t know.”

“You can think about it. This isn’t a police interrogation, Shaun.”

Shaun’s quiet for a few minutes after that, and Neil’s about to tell him he doesn’t have to give an answer, when Shaun says, “I find it difficult to quantify.”

“That’s alright. You don’t need to come up with an answer just because I asked. You can give me an answer later. Or never. It’s up to you.”

“That.” Shaun leans forward, squeezing the hand of Neil’s he’s still holding between both of his. “You’re inordinately patient with me. Many are not. I know it can be…difficult for others to interact with me. To understand me.”

The frustration he hears in those words makes everything in Neil hurt. “I understand you.”

“You do,” Shaun acknowledges, relaxing. “That’s only one thing, though. I admire you. I respect you. My answers would be mostly the same as every reason that you gave about why you’re with me. You care about people, you want to stand up for them, protect them. You do that for me.” He slows his words, like they’re becoming more important. “Not because you think I can’t do it, but because you want to do it. Because you care for me.”

That, Neil knows, is something that Shaun had struggled to learn the difference between, for quite some time. He was so used to others trying to take care of him, trying to do things for him, that he’d always viewed it as people wanting to take his choices away. He’d seen it as them implicitly saying he couldn’t do things for himself. It had taken him a while to accept that it was _also_ something people did for each other just to show they cared – not to show they thought the other person wasn’t capable, in their own right.

Shaun’s still talking. “I want to be with you, in every way. I’ve never felt that before.” Shaun drops his eyes. “This is something I thought I would never experience firsthand. Now, I can’t imagine my life without it. Without you. It’s…a gift.” He looks at Neil again. “You are a gift to me.”

Neil’s never been overly stoic or reserved in his relationships – oh, he’s never been an open book, but he knows how to talk about his feelings and has always found it ridiculous to pretend like he doesn’t have any. But still, hearing Shaun say that to him is doing something strange to him, almost like he can’t breathe right for a moment.

“I think…” Neil uses his free arm to pull Shaun over so that the other man is leaning against him, “…that we’re a gift to each other.”

Shaun doesn’t answer that, though he’s looking down at their hands again, and this time, it’s Shaun who runs his fingers over the back of Neil’s in absent patterns (or rather, knowing Shaun, they’re some complex calculations that only he knows). “Neil…before you, it was exceedingly rare for people to try and touch me.”

“They know you don’t like being touched.”

“You are my exception.” Shaun pulls away slightly in order to look directly at him; they’re still extraordinarily close. “My exception to a lot of things.”

“What’s the difference, then?” Neil asks, curiously. “You’ve told me that when I touch you, it feels different than other people. But you’ve never tried to explain why – not exactly. Is it because we’re in a relationship?”

Shaun’s shaking his head. “No, it’s not that. It’s… It went the other way; I’ve told you that. I noticed there was a difference with you the few times you accidentally touched me, before we were together.”

When he doesn’t elaborate, Neil raises his eyebrows. “But _why_ is it different?” he persists. “The suspense is killing me here.”

“No, it’s not,” Shaun says, matter of factly, and Neil has to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. And to kiss Shaun senseless. Maybe kiss Shaun senseless _while_ rolling his eyes. Yes, that could work.

“Fine, it’s not literally killing me,” Neil relents, “but I really want to know how it works in your mind.” He pauses. “If you’re comfortable sharing, that is.”

“My entire life, when people touched me, it felt wrong. Foreign. Like an invasion. Like they wanted to take part of me for themselves. Touching other people is often much more about them than you. Even if they think they’re trying to help you, it’s usually an act meant to make _them_ feel better.”

“I don’t know if I entirely agree,” Neil tells him.

“You don’t have to agree. It’s simply the way I see it. The way it feels to _me_.”

“So how do _I_ feel to you?”

Shaun’s quiet for a few moments. “It’s another thing that’s difficult to explain.”

“Maybe I can give you some clarity,” Neil suggests, turning Shaun so that they’re once again facing each other. He starts at Shaun’s hands, squeezing them briefly before running his own hands up Shaun’s arms, to his shoulders, then the back of his neck. Shaun has shut his eyes, and his breathing has become shallower. He moves to frame Shaun’s face and then leans in, kissing him lightly – since this is only supposed to be a helpful exercise and they don’t need to get carried away (at least, not yet).

Shaun, however, has other ideas, and deepens the kiss, bringing his own hands up to run through Neil’s hair. When they finally break apart, they don’t go far, and Neil rests his forehead against Shaun’s. “So, what do you feel? When I touch you.”

Shaun’s voice is slightly ragged when he answers. “Adoration. Reassurance. Desire. Comfort.”

“Yes, all of those.” Neil leans back and Shaun looks at him, eyes slightly glazed over. “Love, Shaun. It’s love. I hope that you can feel how much I love you every time I touch you.”

Shaun just nods, words seeming to have failed him, right then.

“That’s why I’m such a fan of casually touching you.”

“You feel the same when _I_ touch _you_.” There’s a slight hint of a question in those words. “Love.”

“I do.”

It seems like a true moment of revelation for Shaun, that so much can be conveyed with mere actions. “I knew how it made me feel, but I didn’t consider that you might feel the same.” His tone turns dejected. “I have no frame of reference to which I can compare –”

“Stop, Shaun. It’s fine. You can touch me as much, or as little, as you’re comfortable with. I told you that in the very beginning.” And in that beginning, it had almost exclusively been Neil who reached out to Shaun. Shaun had always accepted the contact, but it had taken much longer for him to act on his own volition, to feel comfortable reaching out to Neil. He did so regularly now, but still significantly less than Neil did.

“I would have made an effort to touch you more,” Shaun says, then promises, “I will endeavor to do so from now on.”

 _God, how much he loves this man_. “Only if you want to, Shaun,” he repeats. “I never want you to do something you aren’t comfortable with because you think it’s what _I_ want.”

“I enjoy it very much,” Shaun says firmly. His eyes get a faraway look and Neil wonders if he’s thinking of an entire life spent avoiding touching people, only to one day realize he can, in fact, enjoy it (under the right circumstances, with the right person). “It’s not a natural inclination for me to reach out on my own, but I want to with you. _Only_ with you.” The last words are especially stern, as if he’s afraid Neil’s going to announce to the entire hospital that it’s open season for everyone to come up and touch Shaun as much as they want.

“In that, we’re of the same mind. I only want to do this with you, as well.”

“You touch other people,” Shaun points out. In fact, he sounds a little suspicious, and his next words indicate why. “Do you think that being comfortable with you will lead to me wanting to…touch other people casually?” His last words have risen slightly, and if Neil’s not mistaken, there’s genuine horror in the question.

“I think your actual fear of that happening is your answer, Shaun. So no, I don’t think that wanting to touch me because we’re romantically involved will lead to you hugging random strangers in the hallways.”

“Good,” Shaun says succinctly. “If it were an actual consequence of our relationship, I would have to consider breaking up with you.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I wasn’t joking,” Shaun says flippantly, in the exact tone that Neil knows means he’s definitely joking. (That had been new, too, the sense of humor that he’d realized much later on Shaun had – it’s well hidden, and many don’t seem to notice it even now, but since Neil’s aware of it, he sees it _all the time_.)

Shaun stretches out on the bed, not so much lying on his own side as he is right in the middle, which means he and Neil are touching. It’s not unusual, though, by this point – Shaun often encroaches on his side of the bed (and often likes them to be touching when they fall asleep at night). Neil knows his presence is a source of reassurance for Shaun after so many nights spent alone (and terrified, at that). Despite his hesitation at other times, nights had been the one time Shaun has _never_ had a problem reaching for Neil.

As such, it’s been a long time since they’ve spent a night apart. Occasionally, they’ll sleep at Shaun’s (Neil had made the stipulation that he needed to buy a real bed, and Shaun had promptly agreed that at Neil’s age, he needed proper sleep support), but in general, they typically spend nights at Neil’s. It’s more comfortable, closer to the hospital, and in a much safer area. Shaun never bothered arguing, and Shaun _always_ argues when he wants something different, so Neil knows that he prefers staying at his place, too. (Which reminds him…he’d been planning on asking him about moving in, and after tonight’s conversation, it seems as good a time as any.)

Shaun’s eyes are shut and Neil might have thought the other man was intent on falling asleep, except Shaun hasn’t gotten ready for bed. And he would _never_ fall asleep without getting ready for bed. It must mean that he’s simply content being there with Neil, who’s never had a problem with silence (something which he knows Shaun truly appreciates). They can go an entire evening without speaking, and it works for both of them.

Neil watches him for a few minutes, the quiet stretching out in the room. It’s moments like these that he thinks about the trust inherent between them; the trust Shaun has in _him_. He knows that’s a hard thing for the other man to extend, to anyone, and therefore it’s not something he’ll ever take for granted. He reaches over, brushing his hand along Shaun’s forehead, then the side of his face. A faint smile lifts the corners of Shaun’s mouth and he tilts his head closer to prolong the contact.

Neil thinks about bringing the conversation back around to their original topic. “You awake?”

Shaun opens his eyes, looking up at him, and Neil sees what he’s going to say right before he says it. “No.”

“The joke works better if you keep your eyes shut.”

“I didn’t think it worked at all.”

“Yet you appropriated it.”

“I was attempting to see if I could find the humor in it. I didn’t.”

“I don’t quite believe you.”

“You said that before. _Exactly_ that. Twenty-three minutes ago.”

“I repeated it on purpose,” Neil assures him.

Shaun’s studying him. “Why did you want to know if I’m awake?”

“What we were first talking about, when you came in the room? We lost our way on that topic. I thought we should resolve it.”

Shaun sits up again. “You mean marriage.”

“Yes. You basically proposed to me. I only wanted to know why. You never answered that question – you deflected, instead.”

“You’ve been engaged before,” Shaun says, and Neil has déjà vu, briefly wondering if they’ve entered some kind of time loop – but no, this is just Shaun, bringing up the same point when he feels it hasn’t been properly resolved.

“I was,” Neil answers, carefully. Again, he gets the feeling like there’s something more here that he’s missing and he has to tread lightly.

“When I brought it up, you wouldn’t provide me with a straight answer. You agreed to marry Jessica, despite – in your words – it not being your best relationship. You will not agree to marry me.” The words, and what they imply – what they imply Shaun _thinks_ – leave Neil speechless. Shaun’s looking away from him again, continuing on before Neil can formulate a reply. “I understand it would be…difficult to marry me. Our relationship is not conventional. If you don’t wish to make that kind of commitment then you can be honest with me.”

“I’m already committed to you,” Neil says firmly, reaching a hand out to touch Shaun’s chin, prodding him to look back his way. “I would love to marry you. How do you not know that?” Even as he asks the question, he regrets it. He’s just so much in shock that Shaun might still doubt his feelings, even after everything they’ve said to each other this evening.

“I _thought_ you would, yes,” Shaun’s explaining, “but when you didn’t initially agree, I realized I might have been wrong. It’s possible to care for someone, to want to be with them, and not want to marry them.”

Again, those words sound like they came from someone else, and not Shaun. “Have you been talking about this with other people?”

Shaun pulls away from Neil, ducking his head once more. “Claire. She gave me that advice. That not wanting to marry someone is not the same as not loving them.” He must take Neil’s lack of response as unhappiness. “I apologize for discussing our relationship with –”

“No,” Neil interrupts. “ _No_ , Shaun. I've told you before that you’re allowed to talk about us with your friends. I would never be upset about that.”

He can see the relief on Shaun’s face that he isn’t angry, and it strikes him (not for the first time) how much standing he has in the younger man’s eyes. How _important_ his opinion and feelings are to Shaun – and reminds himself to always be extra careful because of that fact. “Claire’s not wrong, either. People can love each other and not want to get married.”

“Does that mean that you…” Shaun trails off. “I don’t want to get married if you only agree in order to…”

“Make you happy?” Neil fills in. “That’s not how I feel, at all. I think there was a fundamental misunderstanding at the start of our conversation tonight. You took my questions as indication I wouldn’t want to marry you. All I ever wanted to know is why _you_ want to marry me.” Neil sighs, knowing he has to be honest here, and painfully so, despite the fact that it will expose his own insecurities. “I know you view things practically. Extremely practically. So when you said that it’s a way to legally commit to each other, a way for each partner to declare they’re going to stay with each other, I thought… Shaun, marriage shouldn’t be a way to get your partner to stay. If you’re suggesting this because you’re worried I might leave, then I have to correct you right now. I’m not going to leave you. Not ever. You don’t have to _do_ anything to get me to stay.”

“You think that’s why I proposed we get married?” Shaun’s eyes are bright, and confused, and there’s something like understanding slowly growing there. “I suggested it because _I_ want to stay with _you_. And that’s the next logical step when it comes to romantic relationships. Or so others have told me. If I’m wrong in that…”

Neil feels a sudden, and severe, weight lift from him. “No, you’re not wrong. It’s a way to tell the world that you’re both seriously committed, as well as legally intertwining your lives. Most importantly, it should happen when two people are in love with each other.” He hesitates again. “Are you sure you want that with me, Shaun? You _are_ younger than me. I understand if you wouldn’t want to be…tied down to me. At least, not yet.”

“I wouldn’t have started the discussion with you if I weren’t serious about it. I don’t suggest things I’m not serious about.”

Neil smiles, slightly. “I know you don’t. Forgive me. I’m… I want to make sure you’re fully aware of the implications of marriage.”

“Forever,” Shaun tells him. “It means forever.” He inches closer to Neil. “I want forever.”

Neil can only stare at him, somewhat in disbelief at what he’s hearing. It’s exactly what he’s known he wanted, for a long time now. He can hardly believe that Shaun has beaten him to it. “Forever,” he echoes, carefully. And it’s an affirmation. A promise. They’re still missing a step, though. “Usually, people live together first.”

“They do?” Shaun asks, and Neil’s again reminded of how little experience he has with the natural course of relationships. But that’s okay. Neil doesn’t mind teaching him – he never has.

“They do,” Neil confirms. “In fact, I’ve been wanting to ask for some time… You once told Aaron and Claire that we had eleven rooms…what do you think of cutting that down to six?”

Shaun instantly does the math. “You want me to move in with you.”

“Yes. I’ve wanted that for a while, I just wasn’t sure if it was what you wanted.” When Shaun doesn’t answer, he feels compelled to go on, maybe offer some reassurance the younger man might need. “It won’t be that much of a difference. You’re here most of the time, anyways. And we’re never apart even when you’re not, since those nights we just stay at your place.” He knows Shaun like no one else does, and adds, “It seems pointless, by now, to pay for two apartments.”

“Yes, that is a waste of money. Dr. Glassman is always telling me I need to be more frugal.” He studies Neil. “It would be especially frugal if I let you pay for everything.”

Neil can’t help laughing. “I know you hate that idea, even as you try to joke about it.”

“I know you make a lot of money. I’ve seen your account statements.” He tips his head, seeming to remember something. “I spoke to Lea recently. She had lots of questions about you.”

Neil can only  _imagine_. The woman can be forward at times, but she’s been a steady friend to Shaun, so for that alone…she’s fine in Neil’s book. “Do I want to know?”

“She told me that you would…keep me living in style. Whatever that means.”

“She was joking.” (Or knowing Lea, probably not.) “She meant that I would pay for a high-end lifestyle for you to enjoy.”

“I do like your apartment,” Shaun says, “and not having to take the bus, anymore.” His face turns slightly troubled. “You shouldn’t cover my expenses, though. We can keep them separate.”

“If we’re getting married, that’s not how I want things to work. All money would go into the same account, and we’d pay for things from there. Besides, you’ll eventually be making as much money as I do. If not more.” When Shaun seems puzzled by that, Neil explains, “You’re amazing, Shaun. Only a handful of people in the world can do what you do. I fully expect, at some point in the future, for another hospital to steal you away. And give you my equivalent position there. If not something higher.”

“I don’t want to work at another hospital.” The words are harsh, almost angry, and Neil reaches out to run his hand down one of Shaun’s arms. When Shaun calms, he adds, “My friends are at Saint Bonaventure Hospital. Dr. Glassman is there. _You_ are there.”

“You don’t have to work anywhere else, if you don’t want to. But don’t ever let me, or anyone else, hold you back from another job.” Seeing Shaun’s about to protest the way he worded that, Neil explains, “Don’t ever refuse to take a job because of us. Because of _me_.”

“What if I want to refuse?” Shaun challenges, fiercely, and Neil again wants to kiss him senseless. (It’s a common feeling when it comes to Shaun.)

“Then I guess that’s your answer,” Neil tells him. “Do what you want to do, Shaun. I’ve always told you that.”

“I want to be where all of you are,” Shaun says. “That’s all.”

“We love you, too,” Neil tells him, quietly. “So was that a yes? To the moving in with me?”

“I’ll move in with you,” Shaun says agreeably, “if you marry me.”

“Is this…” Neil can’t help the smile that crosses his face. “Are you negotiating with me?”

Shaun appears to be considering that. “Maybe. I simply want to know if you’re in favor of my proposal. About changing our relationship.”

“Yes,” Neil breathes. “Yes, Shaun.”

Shaun seems inordinately pleased, and increasingly excited. “You are my first relationship, my first experience with romantic love.”

“You’re my first real love, too, Shaun. I’d loved before, but never…never like with you.”

Shaun tilts his head, like he’s considering something, then nods at whatever conclusion he’s come to. “You’ll be my last.”

Neil can’t find any air to reply to that, so he reaches out, pulling Shaun to him, instead. He kisses him thoroughly, trying to convey without words everything he feels. And it’s _a lot_. But Shaun…Shaun seems to get it. The younger man hums happily against him, and when they pull apart, neither of them moves away that much.

After Jessica (and his subsequent vow to never again get involved with a co-worker) Neil wouldn’t have believed it if someone told him that he’d end up in yet another relationship with a colleague.

He’d _certainly_ never have believed it if the person had said he’d fall in love with one of his residents.

And if they’d told him it would be Shaun Murphy, of _all_ people? He’d have been calling for a psych consult, convinced the person was certifiably insane.

It happened, though. It happened, and Neil’s amazingly glad for it, because he can’t imagine his life any other way. He wouldn’t _want_ his life to be any other way.

“Six rooms,” Shaun’s saying, maybe to Neil, maybe to himself. “We’ll share six rooms.”

“And a life.”

“And a life,” Shaun echoes, as Neil puts his arms around him and pulls him in for a hug, which the other man willingly accepts. And returns.

(No, Neil Melendez wouldn’t want his life any other way.)


End file.
